Raw
by rousseurlyon
Summary: Like ash dispersed in the wind, leaving no trace behind, her name had been erased from his coworker's vocabulary. Bearing this longing alone is making him weak and he bursts out from rage in the squadroom. AU; Set season 11. Part One of the Remnants of Regret series.
1. Chapter 1

_This was inspired by a poem I found on tumblr and is used during Tony's session. You'll see what I mean. It's not my usual writing style or something I've ever ventured into, but I hope you enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: *_ _Fill in some quirky response on how these characters aren't mine_ _*_

 **Raw – Chapter One**

* * *

 _Move on_ , harsh advice from people who call themselves family; cracks on his taped heart.

 _Move on,_ echoed. A scratched record, but each replay a distinct voice.

Scoffing and storming out like a teen; three strikes against him.

The threat, a reality. The orders signed, enforced.

Head down.

Quiet.

No arguing.

A recluse for months on end, staring at the empty desk across his own.

A force widening the cracks formed from the agony.

The anger box, too small, had overflowed. And it boils; boils as the temperature rises. Ignited by their words and kept steady by her absence.

Her presence the only way to kill the fire.

 _Move on_. Like she'd been a phase he's able to leave behind. Like she'd never existed. As though she'd never been a daughter. A friend. A sister. A companion. An almost-lover.

Nothing at all.

Non-existent.

Like ash dispersed in the wind, leaving no trace behind. Her name erased from their vocabulary. The memories blur. And he worries, worries they'll be erased or distorted in his mind.

Figments of his imagination, maybe? Had she been a creation of his craving heart. But the pictures, hard proof that she'd existed in this world.

Locked away and hidden, he fights alone the fight of a hundred men. The only one who fights to keep her memory alive. The others, immune and unaffected.

He can't keep fighting alone; can't be the only warrior. Silent no more he screams,

 _"I love her!"_

He leaves them stunned.

The orders for enforced therapy, approved.

He walks away,

defeated.

...

Several minutes of debate outside the door; in or out?

 _Attend or suspension._ The voice of his boss rings in his head.

In it is, but not without reluctance.

Regret, grief and anger not the best combination in a hostile patient.

"Agent DiNozzo", voice too chipper. He hates it already.

A long day awaits.

...

Several questions to build a personal relationship, she'd said.

 _Pure crap_ , he thinks.

Dread runs through his veins like the caffeine that fuels his boss.

"How did it feel?"

He stares, agape. "What?"

"Leaving," voice tender to coax a wounded animal.

Lashing out, he stands abruptly. He threatens to walk out. _Suspension_ , he hears and returns.

Breathe, he reminds his lungs. Shaky hand through unruly hair, unleashing frustration.

"It was..." He hesitates; makes sense of the memories, the feelings, and the dreams. Which have been distorted?

"Leaving, it was like taking my heart out of my chest unwilling.

I long her existence;

I long her presence.

And this longing is making me weak…"

The words leave him exhausted, but his heart is lighter. Finally, a breath of fresh air that doesn't sting.

...

'Dear Ziva,' he starts to type an email he'll never send.

Homework from his therapy session and he's committed to this recovery; has to be. He needs to work; a distraction from the constant loneliness around him.

'Yours forever, Tony.'

Click, save.

He walks away.

Bing, 'message sent'.

...

Knocks and knocks drag him from a welcomed dream of her and him that night. A different ending conjured up that leaves his heart content, but an empty bed makes him realise, it's only a dream. The sting returns and he's glad for that second session tomorrow.

A glance at his phone alerts him it's the middle of the night. Maybe someone from the team? His father, perhaps?

Groggily and groaning, he walks towards the nuisance as the knocks continue.

A peek through the peephole, and he hesitates. But only a moment before he opens the door for his un-welcomed guest.

"Hello Tony."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again! Raw had intended to be a one-shot, but after much consideration I think it might have a few more chapters in it. So far I have four chapter written and five chapters contemplated. I hope you guys don't mind._

 _Disclaimer: *_ _fill in with quirky comment about how I don't own the characters_ _*_

 **Raw – Chapter Two**

* * *

"Hello Tony."

Her voice evokes,

Anger.

More anger.

He's ready to slam the door in her face and return to his dreams, where there was no departure and instead she's been at his side all these months.

But after four months, she's here. He should at least figure out why. She at least owes him that.

And it dawns on him, she's actually here; standing at his door awkwardly.

Relief; that's she's just as uncomfortable with this encounter as he is.

Delight; that she's here after months away. Of months with not even as much as a smoke signal from this woman.

And a clog that forbids words to escape his throat, clears and he's able to ask, "what are you doing here?" A bit more harshly then he'd intended.

No words leave her lips. Instead she opens the coat she downs to combat the winter she's no longer accustomed to and at first he doesn't see it, the swell that consumes her front, until her hands cradle the minor bump.

"Mine?" Calculations, guesstimates, and memories of their days in Israel cloud his mind, leading him to the conclusion that the child residing in her womb should indeed be his.

She simply nods as a flash of hurt clouds her eyes, but only for an instant.

"Ok."Because what else can he say? He can't react to this news until he knows what her plan is with him, with them and just in general. As of now, they are but two strangers from two different countries whose lives no longer intertwine. There is no them, she'd made that very clear as she'd stayed glued to the tarmac and he'd boarded the plane, nothing that connects them.

Except there is, the life growing within her.

And maybe he's a bit elated, but he can't open that box, not yet. Until he knows for certain where this is taking them.

He needs reasons and answers, loads of answers. And maybe also an apology? Maybe that's for his wounded ego.

"And your letter..."

It'd sent?It wasn't meant to be sent. It was meant to be stayed locked away in his draft folder, maybe he'd delete it after a few months _._ Well that certainly changes things.

He wants more of an explication, but a single glance at Ziva, and the hour marking his clock, makes him fully aware that it'll have to wait moments more.

He's stubborn and wants all his questions answered, all his uncertainties put to rest after months of consuming his thoughts, crafting a cocktail of emotions: anxiety, anger, resentment, loneliness and most of all sadness, but the hour doesn't mix well with clarity and nothing will be resolved now.

And the fact that Ziva is restless and tired. He doesn't miss the way her hands smooth her lower back and her legs sway from one to another. After all these months apart he can still read her so easily, notice the subtle changes in her behaviour.

"Do you want to sit?"Just thinking about it has him reaching for the couch and he's not the one expending additional energy to sustain a life.

A life he and Ziva had created.

 _Stop, Tony_. He's getting ahead of himself. Ready to jump into whatever this is.

He needs to hear Ziva out. To see what she wants and needs and maybe find a way he can work himself into those plans.

"Thank you."

And as she sits he hears the soft sigh escape her lips at finally resting her sore back from the additional weight. He watches in silence as her eyes close for a moment, breathing in and out, her newfound curves expanding with each intake of breath. He has half a mind to just pause the conversation here, offer Ziva his bed while he takes the couch and resume this much needed conversation in the morning, a morning that's sure to surface in a few short hours. But he's impatient, again; needs to know what this new information brings and where it leaves him, her, them.

Determined, he clears his throat."We have a lot to talk about."

Startled, she opens her eyes. "Yes," she responds softly into his quiet apartment, which is adjusting to the visit.

He opens his mouth to start it off, but he stops himself as guilt coats his patience; she just looks so tired and he knows he should let her rest.

The talk can happen in the morning and despite where this adventure takes them, this time he's not letting them leave and if she insists, well she's not leaving without him.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and the wonderful messages that inspired me to turn this into more than a one-shot._


	3. Chapter 3

**Raw - Chapter Three**

* * *

"Are you sure?" After a drip of the initial awkwardness had dissipated, he offered to call it a night and resume their talk in the morning, but Ziva disagreed.

"'m sure." Though the exhaustion radiating off her body told otherwise, he obliged nonetheless.

The words, "You stayin' in a hotel?", slip from his lips.

Awkwardness fills the air. The them he knew wasn't there, it'd stayed with her on that tarmac. Again, they'd have to work up to what they were and the scary thing was that they wouldn't be able to return to what they once had been. He feared maybe their dynamic was lost, but then again, they could work to a new dynamic; an even stronger one. For the situation that united them once again was different; a third member was now involved.

"No, I uh- I came straight here from the airport." Her eyes divert to his grand piano, where she'd watched him brush away the rust on his fingers and played her a sweet melody, and her hand falls to the top of her minor bump as she rests against the couch.

"You can stay here. Take my room and I'll take the couch." He offers.

He gives a tentative smile as she obliges.

And from there, question after question spills from the one who had suffered silently, and sometimes not so silently, for months on end. Maybe the answers would ease some of that burden and potentially, it could bring more.

...

Not even after his initial therapy session had he felt as drained as he does now. And they'd only stopped because his morning alarm had gone off, alerting him of the hour. They'd worked through quite a lot, but there was still much left to be discussed. Though he feels lighter,

Relieved.

And closer to happiness than he has in the last four months.

He's been a zombie,

But now he's his old self or closer to. The team was sure to notice his change, but he'd be damned if he would tell them the cause of his sudden change. No, he wouldn't disclose this information, not unless she wanted him to.

They- yes, they- were moving in the right direction. That much they'd agreed on. There was to be a them, but it would take work, lots of work and they'd agreed it wasn't just for the sake of the baby.

They'd be a family. Him, Ziva and their baby.

A blaring pulls him out of his reverie. Right, his alarm.

"Time for work, yes?" She fidgets with her hands, - and he senses a hint of disappointment- a new thing he's noticed. Maybe another change pregnancy has brought?

He'd have to learn all about pregnant Ziva; every new curve that this pregnancy would bring month after month as her belly expanded with the growth of their child.

He shakes his head. "I'll call in. I've uh... recently accumulated a lot of sick days." And with that the disappointment disappears.

He excuses himself to the kitchen for a bit of privacy to talk with him boss. "Just need a personal day, boss. Take care of some things." After a beat, he adds, "I'll be back Monday morning."

Gibbs is reluctant to agree and after his short talk with Gibbs, Tony turns his attention back on Ziva and notices how exhausted she looks. Both need rest and fuel, but more so she.

There were some imminent things to be discussed that would shape the rest of how the week would play out, but it could wait a few hours. The most important had been agreed on and decided that no matter the direction they were dragged in, it'd be together.

With a them in sight, the details could wait a few more hours.

"Go rest, I'll wrestle up some breakfast or a late lunch, depending." He chuckles. The first in months and his apartment seems to wake to the life within it.

Oddly enough, she doesn't protest. "Take my bed, it's comfier than the couch."

Although she's been here before, movie nights and sleepovers the summer he'd been left as team leader, she allows him to lead the way. He heads to his dresser, digging through drawers to find his smallest pair of sweats and an NCIS tee and hands it to Ziva for comfort.

"A king-sized bed?" She marvels at the new revelation. Last time she'd stayed, nightmares haunting her sleep, it'd been a twin bed, hardly enough space to accommodate him.

He runs a hand up and down his neck as he hands her the clothes. "Yeah I uh-" he hesitates. "Yeah, upgrade." He answers. Can't tell her that he'd bought it shortly after his return to Israel in hopes that she'd realise her mistake in staying. It hadn't happened, unfortunately.

"About time." Her playful smile returns and hope bubbles in his chest in response. Despite everything, they'd be okay.

After an awkward silence. "Have your cravings started?" Was there a certain month in which they started, were worse? Man, he really didn't know anything about pregnancy. He'd have to go out later that day and buy a book so he'd be prepared to help Ziva in any way she needed. "Are you craving anything in particular?"

Ziva smiles at his thoughtfulness and thinks for a moment. "What do we feel like eating, bi'bua?"

"Bi'bua?" He questions.

Red shades take hold of her cheeks and she nods, a bit apprehensive and embarrassed. She'd only talked to her womb in private. "It means bubble. Because that's what she feels like in there, like bubbles."

Again, another question, "she?"

"It is just a feeling, but it has not been confirmed."

"Oh." He hesitates a moment. "Can I-" he points to her stomach. He didn't quite know how to ask if he could feel; though he doubted that this early he'd feel anything.

She nods and he approaches tentatively. Sticking out his hand, Ziva guides it to the top of her bump and holds her hand against his. Their hands stay atop her belly for a while, Tony entranced at the thought of their daughter- he'd learned to trust Ziva's instincts long ago- growing within her mother's womb, until Ziva breaks it.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but uh, I really have to pee, Tony."

He shakes his head awkwardly, "right, right. I'll let you change and get some rest."

Before he heads out, he stops "did you think of anything you wanted for later?"

"Something sweet, please."

He smiles. He knew just the thing for that sweet tooth she'd developed. Another thing he tucks away for future reference. "Sweet dreams, Ziva."

"Thanks, Tony."

With that he closes the door, allowing her some privacy and a bit of rest and retreats to the kitchen.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading and the wonderful response I've received with this story._


	4. Chapter 4

**Raw - Chapter Four**

* * *

"Satisfying?" Tony takes their plates and drops them in the sink, their hands brushing as he takes Ziva's. The spark that ignites deep in his belly reaches his cheeks and he retreats to the kitchen; away from prying eyes.

He hears her approval; misses the smile that graces her lips while he's away, but he catches as she ever so tenderly skims her hand on the rim of her bump. He hides, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment. These liberties aren't his to take. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe soon they would be.

He returns, sitting in front of her. "I know I promised something sweet, so maybe we can head to the coffee shop close to here? Continue that talk?" The words are laced with uncertainty.

A consensus had been reached that Tony would be the father of their child though that didn't stop the fear, that often boiled on remembering Ziva's departure, that she was capable of leaving without notice. Though, if it were to happen, this time, the trip wouldn't be a party of one. What Tony craved in these moments is the permanence of their family; no running.

He needed something permanent.

Solid.

Unbreakable.

A shimmer of assurance that she'd stay.

He watches her small tilt of approval and a bit of that fear vanishes. And as they head down the street, their palms kissing, tranquility builds.

...

Tony chooses a secluded table, or as secluded as is possible in a crowded coffeehouse, for the privacy they'll need for this conversation to take place; after ordering drinks.

The delicious brownie;

A strong coffee.

And a green tea with milk and honey.

A shield formed of awkwardness surrounds them, impenetrable to the brouhaha of the coffeehouse. Tension surrounds them as both go to speak, but Ziva retreats for him to take the lead. Though, neither speak in the end.

Suddenly all words just sound so heavy.

And hurtful;

A weapon.

How can he convey all the insecurities that her abrupt disappearance and stay have caused to dominate his mind with her sudden return?

Oh boy!

This would be tough.

 _Speak Tony,_ he orders himself.

Where to start?

Sucking down the clog in his throat, he tries to make order of the madness in his brain; form eloquent thoughts. _Here goes..._

"Though I'm still confused on why you've decided to show up now, I do appreciate that you've come; that you've made the effort to stay and work through things. And I know we've talked and decided that we want to be a family and raise our child together." He watches her stay on her side of the table, her body stiff as she has no idea of where he's headed with his train of thoughts.

Neither does he for that matter.

"But Ziva, I still worry that despite committing to stay in DC with me, that in a few months maybe you won't feel the same and leave. I need some kind of reassurance that I won't come home one day to both of you gone. I couldn't live through that." Not again, he wants to add.

He doesn't.

Instead he worries that he's pushing Ziva to her limits; that she'd run, again. But it needed to be said, couldn't start a relationship with hurt and wounds that seem healed, but could later be reopened.

It all needed to be said now; brought to the open and worked through. Their relationship, fragile at its core, would need time and work because love, passion and need wasn't going to be enough to hold them together if the core was rotten.

The raw and ugly truth needed to be voiced.

"I just need something to hold on to Ziva. I want to be sure that I'm not fully committing to something in vain. That's all I'm asking for here."

She sighs and Tony deflates.

 _That's definitely not a good sign._

"Tony," she reaches out her hand to rest atop his for comfort and looks at him with such vulnerability clouding her eyes. "What you're asking for, I cannot give you. Only time will show you that I'm committed to making us a family. It will not be an easy task nor a short one and it will require patience, understanding and support on your part. There will be times when maybe I'll feel the need to run and maybe I'll seek refuge elsewhere for a short time, but know that I'll always come back to you."

It wasn't quite the answer he was expecting to hear, the assurance he desperately craved.

"That's the point, Ziva." Frustration bubbles; running his hand through his hair to leave some of it behind in the knots. "I don't want you to have to seek refuge somewhere else when times are tough. I want you to be able to come to me; for me to be the person you come to for help. That's all I ask." A shuddering breath. "I don't want you to run, damn it. I'm tired of you running away from me instead of towards me."

He chances a glance at her and finds her stunned.

"You are asking me to change Tony and that takes time. It is a habit I cannot break overnight, but what I can promise you, Tony, is that I'll try. I will try not to run from you."

His silence stretches on. The truth was raw and ugly, but this is what he wanted, right?

But he didn't know it would hurt when it was reciprocated at him.

"I know this is not what you'd like to hear, but I do not want to lie to you. I've apologized for how I left things, for not coming when you'd ask, but at the time I thought that was the only way to handle my demons without hurting those around me." Her hand falls away from his and her gaze turns to her bump.

He still doesn't speak and so she fights on. "I promise to stay and fight for us. I want us; you, me and bi'bua to be a family. And I know it won't happen overnight, but I will do whatever it takes to make it happen."

The fog clears, the hurt memories falling behind and he's able to reason at her words. He'd retreated to. Worse, he'd let the anger take over.

"Ziva I want you to be absolutely sure that you want this; us." Because he is and he won't chance the doubt to bubble up and once again cause her to flee.

"I am."

He nods ever so slightly and the silence embraces them, the brouhaha of the coffeehouse penetrating their shield.

After a moment, "do you think that we can make this work?"

He sighs. He has his own doubts and fears of the fragility of their relationship.

Will it work?

Will a child complicate things;

Precipitate a relationship that shouldn't be?

 _No, stop_.

If he's sure of anything, it's them.

"It'll take time Ziva, but look how far we've come in these last few hours. We aren't those immature kids that acted on instinct anymore. We've grown and matured and if we actually want this and work for it, then yes, I think we can be a family. We just need time."

Time; only time would placate his insecurity.

And support; for Ziva to fight the urge to run from that which she couldn't control.

And love; for each other and what they were trying to build.

And honesty; to keep each other mended.

They weren't perfect, far from it. They were a mess, in the middle of a coffee shop, but in the end, together. And if they could offer love, patience, security and support to one another they might just make it, the both of them and form a family.

The DiNozzo-David family.

"Time," she agrees.

To heal those raw wounds; hers and his.

The end.

* * *

 _I want to thank you all for bearing with me and taking this journey with me. I had never intended for this to be more than a simple one-shot, but your words really inspired me to make this what it is. I appreciate that you guys are eager for more, but I think that Raw ends right where it need to. This chapter completes this story, but don't worry, this isn't the end for these characters in this universe. A prequel in Ziva's point of view is currently in the works. I hope to see you there soon._


End file.
